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Evocative Natural Landscapes in Creative Writing Set the Mood!
Mood writing was the art of the great classical writers, the masters of yesteryear. In The Mood Book's pages we absorb their craft via creative prose examples. "Natural landscapes" set the mood as much as weather and lighting. Writing about the dread of the deep dark woods is very different from a forest of roving dapple-spotlights.
Written by Angela Abraham in 2024
Creative Writing On Landscapes as a Mood Photograph
Landscapes Laced with Icy Dark Moods
In that sunken brittle soil, rotting roots clung. As a withered necrotic hand, each winter wind exposed it to the creeping light. Even the most feeble sigh of icy breeze rocked it, taking it to an ever more precarious angle. Creak! Sinews once vibrant with life snapped, heard only by the beetles that burrowed. Of leaves, none would it bare. Of berry banquets, none could it grow. And, so it sang a collapsing lament to the earth, its soft landing and grave.
Example One:
Example Two:
On a crow-black night, the tree met its last. Beneath conspiratorial clouds of purple edge, it creak-groaned. Long had it been the home of owls, sanctuary and nesting place. Long had it been the king of trees. Yet even the strongest can fall. Even the most mighty can be felled. That night in a chainsaw wind, in an electric lightning swarm, it made its last salute to the forest it loved. Acorns. Acorns. Grow! Grow! Were its final words and wishes.
Beneath a bonny sky of make-believe wonder, a party of white clouds did play. How they skipped amid the blue, these great reflectors of the sun. Page white they morphed, this way and that. Clouds that day were visual music. The birdsong was brightest ink on page. Merry! Merry! Bonny, blythe and gay! For heart and soul, it was better than any clear sky day. What a puzzle! What a canvas! What a sight for the dreaming eye!
Example Three:
A Happy Mood
The sky was a giggle of clouds, waltzing in the blue. The trees, tickled by a sweetly mischievous wind, were the embodiment of mirth. The path rose beneath each rising stride as an upward tilted giant’s palm. Up! Up! Up we travelled to the music of our springing feet. Then, with hearty voice, with dancing dreams, we reached the very top. What a view! What a soulful sight!
Example Four:
Example Five:
A Sad Mood
Gnarled bark trickled as eons tears, swollen from storm’s brutal lash. Leaves were bowed with such heavy drops, their flutterings, their chattering, almost ceased. Drip. Drop. Drip. The once elevated canopy took a most disheveled form. Boughs that once bore weight with ease, creaked to snapping point. Live or die. Survive or not. Such is the struggle for these arboreal lifeboats of the land.
Example Six:
Arboreal limbs raised up to the hitting storm. Relentless. Unforgiving. Blown was the rain, lashing in serpentine strikes. How unseasonal it was. How unexpected. May pawing as if it were December’s twin, claws out. Gash! De-bark! This once prettiest of trees swayed, its once lichened trunk, was a dark mirror of scales. Missing patches, raw to the cold, bled sap. What remained, leaked. There is slumped in a shocked forest, praying for any easing respite.
Example Seven:
An Adventurous Mood
Bark was as woven threads in the most magical tapestry. Ariah followed them with lightest touch. From such simple fibres a tree is made, yet trees are magic. Trees are guardians. Trees are home to the spirits of angel sprites. She hugged her arms wide, embracing it as a halo of green eyes kept watch above. Her eyes travelled upward to its highest point. Instead of narrowing to a spindle, there was a home, not human made - yet grown as a natural part of it. No sooner had she wished to climb, foot and hand holds brailled the trunk. This was it. The adventure had begun.
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